//------------------------------// // Mondays are Harsh // Story: Principal Celestia Hunts the Undead // by Rune Soldier Dan //------------------------------// Some would call Nagatha Harshwhinny an impatient woman. Some would also call her tactless and brusque. Most would skip ahead to less polite descriptors, sometimes while she was still in the room. That was alright. Harshwhinny made a point of discounting the opinions of idiots, and they made up most of the critics. She had plenty of tact, thank you very much, she was just selective of when to use it. “Tact,” after all, was little more than polite lying, and as such was less productive than hard honesty. Enabling feel-goods didn’t spark self-improvement. Constructive criticism did, and if the recipient couldn’t accept it, that was their own loss. Despite such beliefs, she was only human. When a person found a soft spot in her granite heart, Harshwhinny would mind her tongue for them. She considered it a weakness, wondering if the rare friend suffered from the lack of honest feedback. But she could never bring herself to redress the issue. “Ready?” The taller principal asked. “Of course,” Harshwhinny responded. They slipped out the gym door and began walking to her car. Celestia, as it happened, inhabited one of the aforementioned soft spots. In a world full of complaints and excuses, she did neither while enduring a thousand reasons for both. Her full-time position as principal supported what was effectively a second job leading the hunters, cutting into both her free time and income. And now Celestia was taking care of Sunset, in addition to her brat of a sister. And she did it all with a smile. She did it all competently, too, which earned Harshwhinny’s tact. “I talked with Redheart today.” Celestia broached conversation without preamble. Harshwhinny made an indifferent noise. She didn’t like Redheart – the nurse was polar opposite to herself, smiling at everyone while loathing most of them. “She gave me a list.” Celestia gestured with her hands, frowning. “Kinds of doctors Sunset should see. Dentist, eye doctor, gynecologist, and how often she should see them.” Harshwhinny had nothing to add, so she said nothing, and Celestia went on. “But why me? I don’t like how everyone’s presumed I’m adopting her. I feel like I’m being pressured into it.” A rare wince struck Nagatha’s face. Tact or no, she wasn’t good with this kind of thing. She could try, at least. “I don’t think you’re being ‘pressured.’ That word implies you’re being judged, or graded. They’re just concluding things based on what they see. If they’re wrong, ignore them. I make a point of ignoring incorrect opinions, and I’m happier for it.” “But you’re not the leader!” Celestia… whined. Harshwhinny had no other word for it. “They’ll think I’m second-guessing myself. And what’s going to happen if Sunset starts believing it? She called me ‘Mom’ as a joke the other night, but what if she’s building up expectation? What if she starts thinking of me as her mother? She’ll be crushed!” “Then she will learn an important lesson about imposing her desires on others.” Harshwhinny was content to bend an ear for Celestia, but really, the woman fretted the silliest things. “You did specifically tell her you weren’t adopting, right?” “Well, yes, but–” “Then if she ignores you, it’s her own fault. Now get your head in the game.” Harshwhinny’s car was a purple, lovingly-maintained sedan from multiple decades ago. Celestia slowed as they approached, noticing and then flagging down a familiar redhead. “Sunset!” Sunset beamed when she saw who called. She jogged towards them with the pent-up energy of every student after Monday’s last bell. “Hi, Miss Celestia!” Her pace slowed and smile strained as she noticed the other. “H-hi, Miss Harshwhinny.” If she saw the hesitation, Celestia gave no sign. She walked forward to meet the girl halfway, already speaking. “Listen, we need to… what’s on your face?” “Oh.” Sunset ran a finger across the brown splotch on her cheek. “Pinkie gave me a triple-fudge cupcake, I guess some got on.” Celestia was already in motion. “Here,” she said briskly, producing a handkerchief. Sunset reached a hand to accept, but instead Celestia wetted it with her tongue and began scrubbing at the stain. Sunset offered surprised protest, but obligingly remained still for the work. Harshwhinny held her comment, and once more congratulated herself on being, in fact, a very tactful woman. “There.” The job done, Celestia nodded. “Anyway, I wanted to ask: do you have plans for Wednesday?” “Uh, no,” Sunset said. “Tonight, yes, but Wednesday I’m clear.” “Oh, what are you doing tonight?” “Just hanging with the girls at the arcade.” Sunset played with her fingers and looked away. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.” “Of course it is.” Celestia unzipped her purse. “Do you need money?” “N-no, I’m good.” “Here. Just be home by nine.” Celestia pressed a twenty into Sunset’s fingers. The yellow teen blinked at the money before pocketing it, chuckling bashfully. “Thanks. What’s going on Wednesday? Vampires? Muck monsters?” “I signed you up for driving school.” Celestia rose a finger, entering lecture-mode. “It’s an important skill to have in this day and age, even if you don’t end up owning a car. You never know when you might need to be the designated driver, or tag in and out on a long trip.” Sunset smiled hesitantly. “Thanks, but you’re already doing a lot for me with the food and board. Don’t those lessons cost money?” “No,” Celestia said. Yes. Harshwhinny crossed her arms and looked away. Celestia wasn’t done, either. “Also, just to let you know, I’ll be making some doctor appointments for you. There are specialists a girl your age should see; we’ll talk more about that later.” “Miss Celestia, I can’t ask you to pay for–” “Ah-ah!” Celestia’s hand straightened upwards in a ‘stop’ motion. “Sunset, do not worry about the money. Your health is important. We will make and keep these appointments, and I will not hear any debate.” “Heh. Got it.” Sunset grinned, blushing thoroughly. “So, uh, where are you guys going? Parent meeting?” “Of sorts,” Celestia said with a thin smile. “We’ve tracked down a ghast colony to an old warehouse. They burn up in the light, so if we hit them before the sun sets they’ll have nowhere to run.” “Which means we have little time,” Harshwhinny noted. Celestia winced at the unspoken reprimand. “Ah, yes. I’ll see you later, Sunset. Although… you’re welcome to join us if you like.” “She has plans,” Harshwhinny said stiffly, and fixed Sunset with an uncompromising glare. Much as Harshwhinny disliked her, at least the girl could take a hint. She laughed nervously and adjusted the backpack on her shoulders. “Yeah, I do got plans. Rain check, though. I’ll see you tonight, Miss Celestia.” Two minutes into the drive, Celestia spoke. “I wish you would be nicer to her.” “I was nice,” Harshwhinny parried, eyes on the road. A glance to the passenger side showed the principal looking back with pursed lips. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, back there. She might’ve come along if you hadn’t given your Nagatha Death Glare.” “We don’t need the help.” Harshwhinny shrugged. “They’re ghasts, for heavens’ sake. They’re so easy that even Whooves’ inventions are effective.” Harshwhinny’s eye twitched at the mention of the name. Professor Whooves, the group’s scientist, had a poor track record of practical inventions. Even the tools sitting in the back seat – oversized flashlights with pistol grips and ghast-burning brightness – were honestly no more effective than just shooting the creatures. Or blowing up the warehouse, but that was more Redheart’s alley. Celestia was always quick to defend Whooves, but today she wouldn’t be sidetracked. “It’s not about ‘needing’ the help. It’s about making Sunset feel welcome.” “You seem to have that covered,” Harshwhinny said. “Nagatha–” “I tolerate her, Miss Celestia. And even that’s for your sake, not hers.” “Why don’t you like her?” “Do I have to pick a reason?” Harshwhinny didn’t even try to hide the acid in her voice. Celestia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, let’s try this: why are you abnormally hostile to her? Is this about the Fall Formal?” Harshwhinny ground her teeth. “Is this about the time she turned into a demon, possessed us all, turned some students into imps, tried to murder other students, and ultimately planned to send us to her home world to die in a war of blood-soaked conquest?” She let a brief pause sink in before answering. “YES, this is about that! We don’t adopt creatures like that, we murder them!” “She apologized,” Celestia offered, drawing a snort from Harshwhinny. “Oh, that’s lovely. And I suppose if Heinrich Himmler had apologized, you’d let him sleep on your couch?” Celestia gave a ‘hmph.’ “Nagatha, if you’re going to go right to Nazi comparisons we might as well stop here.” “The point still stands!” Harshwhinny rapped her knuckles on the steering wheel for emphasis. “She did some objectively terrible things back then.” “And she’s trying to make up for it.” Celestia looked steadily, disapprovingly, back to Harshwhinny. “She’s succeeding, too.” “The fact that you even gave her the chance disturbs me.” A frustrated growl shot out from Celestia’s throat. “Nagatha, could you take a step back and listen to yourself? We gave the Dazzlings a second chance, and you’ve never complained about them. It’s the same thing.” “Incorrect,” Harshwhinny irately countered. “The Dazzlings were little delinquents with superpowers, and now they’re little delinquents without. They don’t pretend to be anything better.” “Do you think Sunset is pretending?” Harshwhinny gagged on her breath. She set herself up for that one, and now stood caught between lying or conceding. Too proud for the former, she sighed. “No.” “Then why are you like this? Why the hostility towards her?” “I’m worried about you.” The grudging confession caught Celestia off-guard, buying Harshwhinny a few seconds before she continued. “Her world… hmph, ‘Pony Twilight’s’ world, it’s not like ours. Harmony, the Magic of Friendship… here on Earth, it’s all nonsense. I’m worried that you’ll take it to heart. There’s going to be a skinny teenage vampire with adorable quirks who will promise that she’s weally, twuly, sowwy, and because you were right about Sunset, you’ll believe her. You’ll turn your back, and she’ll put her hand through your spine because she’s a vampire, and vampires are mean.” “NOT ALL OF US!” Trixie screamed, startling them both as she popped up from behind the seats. “Take Trixie. She is a good vampire, and helps protect the school from those who threaten it! Like werewolves. Trixie has been carefully following all the boys with too much hair, working her magic to keep their horrible bloodlust in check and…” “You forgot your fangs,” Harshwhinny noted. She pulled over next to a bus stop and stepped out of the car. Trixie squeaked, feeling around in her mouth before proudly displaying the oversized teeth. “No, Trixie has them. She put them in when she… I mean, she got them when a good vampire saved her last year. His name is Rosethorn Nightheart, and he’s very strong and nice, but he has complicated emotions and a dark past so he keeps his distance. If you like, Trixie has her whole backstory in her notebook, she can dig it ouOW, LEGGO MY EAR!” Some squirming, some biting, and an on-time bus later, they were down one Trixie. A slightly disheveled Harshwhinny re-entered the car, and they picked up where they left off. “I’m not going soft,” Celestia offered with the gentle tone she used to reassure students. Harshwhinny, however, wasn’t sixteen. “You were never hard to begin with. And now you’re the mother of a fallen little angel, redeemed by the Magic of Friendship.” “Well, until I learn to channel said Magic of Friendship…” Celestia patted her pistol and shrugged. “I’ll go with this. And I’ll agree that Sunset’s the exception, not the rule. So can you give her a break?” “I do not ‘give breaks,’” Harshwhinny replied primly. “I hold myself to high standards, and I do it for others when they can’t be bothered to do it for themselves.” A pause. Then, “I will, however, endeavor to reduce the ‘abnormal hostility.’” “Thanks,” Celestia beamed. Harshwhinny glanced to her, then looked quickly away. Something about that smile… it warmed her in a way so few gestures could. It was awful. A more companionable few minutes of silence passed before Celestia spoke again. “How far?” “Another half hour,” Harshwhinny said. “The warehouse is on the wrong side of the suburbs.” “Can I turn on some music?” Celestia’s finger was already pressing the knob. “No, wait!” Harshwhinny screamed, but it was too late. Music blared through the car, sung by a peppy, famous voice. “Can-TER-lot girls, We're kinda magical! Boots on feet, bikinis on–” A tan hand slapped the music off. Harshwhinny hunched over the wheel, face burning under Celestia’s gaze. “You listen to Sapphire Shores?” “No,” Harshwhinny hissed. “Chickadee must have left her CD in the car.” Celestia ejected the disk and took a look at it. “It’s burned, and says ‘Nagatha’s favorites,’ on it in your handwriting.” Harshwhinny was nothing if not quick to recover. “And you failed to correct me when I called you Sunset’s mother. I therefore propose a cease-fire.” “Agreed.” Celestia retreated, blushing at the implications of her own slip. “Just, going back to earlier… I mean it, I’m not so soft that I can’t do this. Don’t worry.” “I’m not worried.” A tiny smile danced across Harshwhinny’s lips. “I’ll be hard enough for all of us.”